Despise
by vadg
Summary: Jbl/Shawn, Shawn/? Shawn has more debt than he ever knew he had.
1. Chapter 1

Despise.

1996

Shawn stood in doorway for a long time, just admiring the view.

Hunter's long hair, much darker now that it was wet, obscured his face as Shawn's eyes followed the slippery trail it made down his body's supple shape. His toned form glistened under the falling stream of the water and Shawn felt himself harden at the sight. He wanted nothing more than to just wrap his arms around the big body, to kiss him and be with him slow and sweet under the the warm water, but he knew that wasn't how things were going to be.

He sighed, glancing down at the strips of leather in his hands. For some ungodly reason, Hunter had to have it like this, he had to be driven, forced, stipped of his identity by some anonymous attacker. That was what it took for Hunter to have pleasure. It sickened Shawn, and it repulsed him, but if he drank enough before hand, he could find the courage in the alchohol to to give Hemsley the things he needed.  
Stepping forward, the shorter blonde paused. hoping against hope that this time, Hunter would just turn around, open his arms and let him in.

The superkick caught Hunter hard this time. He contacted the shower wall with a blistering thud, but Shawn knew that when he woke, Helmley would relish the pain with his pleasure. Kneeling the stream of water, Shawn bound Helmsley's hands and mouth with the straps the man so loved to feel, rolled him onto his back and waited, sad and anxious for the bigger man to stir. Thankfully, Hunter didn't delay in this part of the ritual and duely-and forcefully, very forcefully-"stuggled" as Shawn pressed his face down against his "captives" ear.

"Just chill out big man." Shawn made his voice oily, menacing, with the just the right hint of its-going-to-happen that he knew his friend loved and he despised.  
For effect, his passed his hand through the long, silky hair, dragging his nails ever so slightly as he bit his lip in shame. Shawn hated to hurt Hunter this way and tonight, his unusually desperate stuggling was tearing at Shawn's conscience even worse than it had before. He reminded himself sternly how much Hunter needed and liked this, how much he wanted to be hurt and shamed. He whisped the dark, ugly threats he knew the man loved to hear.

"Do you like your job, big man. With one word..ONE WORD...I can make it all go away." Shawn winced at his own words, steeling himself for what was to come. He struck the bound man hard with the flat of his hand and climbed onto this back, careful not to press himself in.  
"If you fight me. If you so much as even whimper..you'll be broke and living in the street. Do you understand me?" To his relief, he felt the resistance ease.

"You are so hot," he whispered, and even though he couldn't see the big man's face, he could feel the subtle warmth of the flush of shame as he caressed Helmsley's cheek. It was time.  
Shawn pressed downward, driving his hardness against the taunt ass in a single slow, searing stroke, listening intently for the soft sounds of pleasure Hunter usually made but hearing only the sounds of ragged breathing in the darkness.  
Hope reached at his heart.  
Sighing, Shawn lifted himself up and away, instead pressing the length of his body against Hunter, wrapping his arms tightly around him.  
He smelled so, so sweet, different somehow, but so warm, so good. He covered the strong neck in kisses, savoring the sweet taste, the sweet quivers instead of the taunt resistance Hunter usually offered. It felt so good, so warm. It had never, ever felt so right. "Please," he whispered hotly, his voice aching with emotion and need. "Please, just let me...just let me." Shawn reached out in the darkness, loosening the bonds that held Hunter's hands.  
He never saw the kick that greeted him. Astonished, Shawn fell backwards against the wall as Helmsley pounded him with two punches, darkness swallowed Shawn up as his consciousness threaten to drift away. His senses cleared just in time to see Hunter disapeering out the door.

As he had lain there, holding, kissing Helmsley, taking in that incredible scent, Shawn had realised just how much the man meant to him. No matter how twisted things sometimes got, he loved that man he's tried so hard to please back there in the shower.  
He loved him.  
He would go to the hotel, he would knock on the door all night and beg if he had to, but one way or another he'd make things right.  
Shawn would tell HUnter how he felt.  
He dressed frantically, rushing to the door so quickly that he collided with the man coming in. Looking up, Shawn sighed with relief and threw his arms around the big man's form.  
"Buddy, buddy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, big man." He was so eager to make up with his friend that it took him a moment to take in the dampened hair, the odor of perspiration.  
He pulled back, glancing downward in confusion and gaped, Hunter was still wearing his wrestling tights. "Hey man, Don't get emotional on me." Helmsley slapped his back heartily, his face twisting into his trademark, cockeyed grin. "I'm sorry I'm so late. Vince bitched my ass out about that bad spot I had out there"  
Shawn never heard the rest of Hemsley's sentance. The world seemed to dissolve as his legs gave way beneath him. "Hey Shawn,what's wrong, are you ok"  
Helmsley's arms wrapped around Shawn's chest, bathing him a soft, salty, completely wrong scent. Shawn wept, shaking uncontrollably in horrible realisation as the images of the evening replayed in his mind. "Oh god, Hunter." he wimpered, his face fixed in horror. " I don't even know who he was.."

Chapter Two Forthcoming.


	2. Chapter 2

2008

That night Shawn had the dreams. He tossed and wept, face pressed into his pillows until he woke screaming in the darkess, in despair. All those years ago, yet still as fresh as that night in the shower, Shawn's nostrils were filled with that sweet savor of that man's flesh, the sweet love he had meant to bestow on... He rolled over, hanging his head over the side of the bed, spilling sickness onto the ground.

When his stomach was empty, he pressed the cross on the bedside table to his chest and prayed, as he did every night since that day. Let the man be whole. Let his purity be restored. Let me carry the weight of his sins. Let him love and be loved. Let his soul and heart forgive me, and let me be forgiven for what I have done to him.

When he finished his mantra, Shawn sat weeping alone on the side of his bed. He knew in his deepest heart that the loss of his wealth was his punishment. Shawn knew that he deserved every moment of the hell that lie before him, but for the sake of his wife, of the children that he so cherished, he raised the cross once more for a final prayer.

Shawn begged in the night for salvation, begged that his wife and children not be made to bear the weight of his sins, he prayed that he could make enough at least to feed and house them, but in heart Shawn knew he did not deserve redemption. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much Shawn loved his wife, his soul and body still ached with horror, with sympathy, with love for the man he harmed that night.

In the end, instead of praying for himself, Shawn did what he done for years. He reached for his cell to call the only person in the world who understood what he had done.

When Hunter answered, he told Shawn the same things he done time and time before. It's not your fault. You were drunk,  
it was dark. You thought it was me. You didn't actually rape him. Even though it was true, Shawn knew it excused nothing, but the words themselves calmed him.

He hung up after an hour, at last ready-and hopefully able-to sleep. As Shawn lay the phone on the table, the ringtone sang. As he drew his ear to the phone, Shawn heard the last voice in the world he might have expected to hear.

"Shawn, this is John Layfield, we need to talk."

Chapter Three soon :D


	3. Chapter 3

Despise

Chapter Three

As he passed through the curtain and into the darkness of the backstage area, Shawn was already fighting the tears.

Somehow, someway, he made it past the long, long line of disbelieving faces. Some were smirking in pleasure at his now public misfortunes, others tried to meet his eye and offer gentle looks of sympathy-or pity.

The entire world knew now of his poverty-his punishment-and part of him longed to at last bear his soul about the burden of his sin. To tell the world he did not deserve their sympathy, to tell him that he was a pervert, a deviant and in the pursuit of his deviations, that he had harmed an innocent, anonymous man.

Only the thought of what the revelation would do his wife and children kept Shawn silent, that and the knowledge that in this public humiliation, there would be some small grains of his salvation.

Shawn's cell phone was already ringing when he entered the locker room, he turned it off as quickly as could. He knew that Hunter would want to try to help, but now, he could not bear to face him. Sinking down to his bottom on the training table,  
Shawn put his face in his hands, and at last, here alone, he allowed himself to weep.

Why had he waited so long to give Layfield an answer? He knew that through his silence he had forced the big Texan's hand. The night of the first call,Shawn had prayed for salvation, and when it had come in the form of this "offer", Shawn had let his ego and his pride keep him from accepting it.

Even though Layfield wanted from him in return was immoral, his own sins were far too great to cast a stone at the other man.  
If it meant cheating and losing to save his family, as he had prayed for his savior to do, how could he possibly refuse the gift he had so desperately asked for?

In that moment of revelation, Shawn swore to put his pride away. When the time came, he would accept Layfield's offer, and save those he loved from the consequences of his sins. Drying his tears, Shawn packed his bag and got ready to face the line again, this time with a renewed strength.

Grabbing his phone, Shawn searched through his list of unanswered calls until he found John Layfield's name. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was a long ride to the fine hotel housing John Layfield, by the time Shawn arrived it was nearly two in the morning. The man at the front desk regarded Shawn with disdain, looking him up and down with an expression that made it clear he felt that Shawn couldn't afford to stay here, that he should be considered lucky he was even allowed in.

It was uncomfortable and demeaning, a reminder of his new circumstances, and Shawn shifted nervously under the inspection.  
Part of him was proud and injured by the treatment, but other parts reminded him of his earlier promise. He would endure this for his family, for his punishment. Simply because.

After what seemed like forever, the man finally turned away from him and crispy summoned a sharply dressed valet. Both men subjected him to another withering examination, whispering between themselves as if he were unworthy to even hear their words.

Shawn felt his face coloring with shame. Memories flooded him. The falling water, stroking the man's cheek, feeling the warmth of that man's own shame. Shawn's eyes became wet, pained at the memory, and he had to fight the urge to bolt from the lobby. Finally, another man approached, introduced himself as Mr. Layfield's personal valet, and lead Shawn away into an elevator. After a silent ride up to the top of the building, the man lead Shawn to an elegant, richly furnished salon and instructed him to wait.

Shawn was tired and irritable. He plopped down indignantly in a plush chair and watched as a troop of various hotel staffers shuffled in and out of an adjacent room, apparantly the suite of John Layfield. Eventually, the weight of the day overcame him, and he drifted off to sleep.

The dreams came, and soon he awoke in tears, shaking, and aroused, again tasting the sweetness of skin. Shawn reached down for the cross he wore around his neck and solumnly resited his familiar prayer. After a moment, the sensations abated, and finally Shawn was able to clear his head.

How long had he been asleep and more importantly, how long had he been waiting? A quick check of his watch informed him that nearly three hours had passed since he entered the hotel. He was furious. Forgetting his earlier promise to silently endure, Shawn leapt out of his chair and marched over to the door of the suite and barged right in.

In the dimmed lights, he could see the figure reclining on the couch. Layfield was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing that night in the arena, expect that his tie had been removed and his shirt was opened at the front. As Shawn drew nearer, he could see the big man's eyes were closed, his hands limply wrapped around a beeping cellphone. Layfield was sound asleep.

Sighing in exaperation, Shawn took a moment to collect himself, then reached down and brushed at the back of Layfield's hand.  
The man's brow furrowed and he shifted, he mumbled something indistinct, then seemed to shiver.

Shawn lept back involuntarily when he bolted upright. For a moment, Layfield's eyes were wide with fear, he drew his shirt closed, almost protectively, then glanced at his watch and winced.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as Shawn looked on in amazement, "I ..feel asleep. The staff have orders not to disturb me. I..." He paused, waiting it seemed for Shawn to speak but the Icon was stupified, he had never seen Layfield so ill at ease. "This is not now I wanted to start this conversation."

The man fumbled awkwardly at his shirt buttons, then snatched at his tie and hat in an obvious effort to collect himself, something in the gesture caused Shawn's anger to dissipate. He softened his voice when he spoke.

"I shouldn't have come so late, to tell the truth, I fell asleep in the chair outside."

Finally composed, Layfield rose at last to greet him.

"I'm glad to hear that." the big man smiled slightly. "I'd hate to think you'd been sitting there that whole time. Can I offer you something?"

The word offer rekindled the memory of Shawn's purpose here. Layfield's offer, which he had come to accept. He didn't want to delay, to think about the ramifications, and let his pride keep him from speaking.

"No, thank you," he said. "Let's get down to business." 


	5. Chapter 5

Layfield was once again the staunch businessman Shawn Michaels recognised by the time the reached the grand office, yet another part of the man's massive suite. They took their positions, Layfield behind the desk, in command and authority and Shawn, in a chair on front, a position of submission that he would soon after have to assume daily.

After a moment of light conversation, designed to set the mood, Layfield's tone turned sober and he folded his hands on the desk.

"I know this must be coming from out of the blue to you, Shawn," he began. "but I have had this in my mind for awhile. You know the basic gist of what I propose, I laid that out for you that first night on the phone. You help me to become world Champion and I," he paused for effect." I help you with all the things money can give a man and his family. You will want for nothing while you are under my employ and when this agreement is dissolved I will pay you in one sum the money you will need to continue to live in that way for the rest of your life."

Shawn nodded at this, it was all he had prayed for the night of the call, salvation for his family. After the words sank in, Layfield continued.

"That is the offer I'm making but what I want you to understand, more than the offer itself, is why." The man shifted in his chair slightly, some bit of nerves seeming to creep into his expression as he paused once more to collect himself, then spoke in one unbroken stream.

"You and I have had some problems in the past, and I cannot promise to forget or forgive, but I can promise to set that aside. From the moment you sign the documents, you have, and always will have, the respect, the care and the benefits of being my employee, but only after the working day is done. From the time we hit that arena to the time we roll out to the hotel I'm going to treat you publically as if I own you."

Shawn winced at the blunt words. Apparently Layfield was still holding a grudge about his count out loss at Survivor Series,  
and the taunting at Raw, but for some reason, he was prepared to believe the man's assurance that he would be treated fairly,  
at least away from work. The idea of being property was abhorant to Shawn in every way, but his family needed this.

Shawn's thoughts trailed off as Layfield continued.

"I may do things out in front of the world, and I may make you do things, that will cause you to be shamed and embaressed.  
You'll have to cheat, you'll have to hurt your friends and your fans, you will have to loose to me when the time comes. Do you think you can do that?"

Shawn lowered his eyes as the words overcame him, the weight of what he would physically have to do to earn this salvation.  
He had done terrible thing before, merely for Hunter's sexual pleasure. For the love of his children, he could do this.

"I believe that I can."

Layfield's face wasn't triumphant as Shawn had expected. He seemed almost wistfull for a moment, and his tone was softer when he spoke again.

"There is one thing more you need to understand. I am not about charity or friendship. Never mistake my actions for generousity. I want one thing and one thing alone out of this, my world heavyweight championship. This is purely, entirely business. I will care for you in the ways I promised, but only for those reasons. Do you understand?"

Shawn nodded his acceptance. He had hoped Layfield would make no improper demands, Shawn no longer had those kind of relationships with men, not since his marriage, not since that night and Layfield's comments seemed to validate that he had no such intentions.

While Shawn had been thinking, Layfield had opened a drawer and produced a stack of documents which he passed to Shawn over the desk.

"I can't lie to you about this Shawn, it will not be easy, not for a moment. I am not an easy man, but I will keep my word and I'll put it writing. Let your lawyers examine everything before you agree."

The big man rose from behind the desk, and Shawn rose in turn, taking his hint that the meeting was adjourned. Layfield stuck out his hand and after a moments' pause, the Icon extended his hand in return to shake it.

"Let me know when you've decided." Layfield said as they broke their clasp and then he walked Shawn to the door. 


	6. Chapter 6

Armageddon.

The annoucement had gone over as smoothly as Shawn could have expected. John had wanted it to be formal and public, even though they had actually reached an agreement weeks before. It was painful and humiliating, but these were working hours, and during that time, Shawn Michaels was property.

It was another long walk for Shawn back to the lockeroom, past more disbelieving faces, except this time, there was a measure of disgust thrown in. He had already cashed his first check, and his family's joy softened the blow. Somehow this experience was good for Shawn's troubled conscience, he had slept free from the dreams these last few nights.

The limo was waiting as he walked outside. Layfield was already waiting, working furiously on several things at once, allowing Shawn the luxury of his own free time. Working hours, at least for Shawn, were over. So far, Layfield had kept his word, his abuses ended at the door. The man who talked so freely in front of the cameras was actually very reticent away from them, yet when he chose to speak to Shawn, it was always with unexpected kindness.

The trip to the hotel passed quietly, but amicabley and Shawn didn't dread his walk through the lobby. The Hotel Valets were no longer disrespectful. They bowed and smiled before him as if he were a king. No matter what town they visited, the staff always treated him graciously and always knew his name.

His suite was lavish, and though it was adjoined with Layfield's, the man seldom intruded. He tipped his hat at the door of his own room, and from that point on, Shawn would not see him until the following day. Anything he wanted was provided for, he could have any comfort or entertainment and no bill was ever tended. Layfield truly picked up the tab for everything.

In the morning, Shawn would find breakfast prepared to his request, and sometimes, John would join him. Mister Layfield was only that during working hours, at night and at other times, Shawn was free to call him by his first name. The man was not friendly, but he was cordial, although Shawn could still sense a discomfort at times. There were still awkward moments, like the one that had happened that first night.

Early on, before Shawn had learned to simply ask for things, he had entered John's room to borrow a towel without knocking. His timing had been poor, the man was undressed, lying in bed and he had another odd outburst of modesty. Yanking his sheets up with an exclamation, he had drawn away with a nearly chalky face, before promptly suggesting that Shawn ask a Maid if he needed anything.

As strange as these moments were, they comforted Shawn. In so short a time, he and John had fallen into such an easy companionship that it was at times disturbing. These moments of friction, admittedly brief somehow made the jarring transition from enemy to boss to after hours companion easier to accept.

He lay back in bed and shut his eyes, sighing contently despite the painful day. His children were clothed and fed, his wife was no longer sleepless in worry, and for the first time in many years, Shawn had found a small measure of peace.


	7. Chapter 7

Shawn wasn't surprised when Hunter came in. All this time, he had been purposely avoiding him. They were still friends,  
even if that was all it was or could be now, but Shawn knew deep down, he had betrayed that friendship. He had kept his worries, his financial loss, even his employment with Layfield a secret from Hunter. He could only imagine what his friend had felt when Hunter had seen him telling the entire world on Raw, without even giving a thought to calling him.  
He knew Hunter would be hurt at his lack of trust, that he wouldn't understand why he hadn't asked for the help he needed.  
With him, there wouldn't have been the conditions or obligations that had come with John's help, but he and Hunter had had something once, where as John and he...

To support his wife and family with money from an old lover seemed to Shawn to be the most ungodly of things. He would have to lie and cheat and lose for John, and although that was immoral, it was work, not a matter of family. Hunter wouldn't understand this, his morals were always so different. Right and wrong didn't matter to him. Even years after that night,  
he had still tried to get Shawn to have sex with him in that same terrible way. He was somehow unaffected by what had happened and even though he comforted Shawn and tried to ease his guilt, he sometimes felt his friend was incapable of understanding the horror that had happened that night.

Right now, Hunter was taunt with rage, his voice precise and clipped as he called Shawn out about his pride, his refusal of help, his good judgement, everything he had expected the man to say. In the end, Shawn just asked for acceptance, for understanding as he handled his own matters his own way.

As Hunter turned to leave after a final cryptic warning, Shawn lowered his eyes and hung his head. After a moment, he felt his chin lifted and he found Hunter looking down at him.

"I wish you could have told me about this but I understand." As quickly as that, Hunter's anger returned. "Has Layfield.  
I mean, how does he treat you?" The question took Shawn by surprise.

"It's a job, Hunter. He pays me to help him. That's it. You of all people should know why it can't be like that and you know why."

Hunter's lips thinned and his eyes sharpened. "You aren't doing this out of some kind of guilt are you? You're not trying to make up for anything?"

Shawn drew away, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I can never take back what I did that night, Hunter. I will always feel guilty and you will not convince me that my poverty wasn't a punishment. I prayed for salvation, not for me but for my family and if that salvation comes in the form of John Layfield's money, you know that I have to accept it."

For a moment there was silence, then Shawn felt the tension dissipate, and Hunter nodded.

"Just be careful. Try and stay away from him."

Shawn didn't want another fight, he'd choose another day to explain about the public and private John Layfield. He already knew Hunter wouldn't understand. He just nodded and clapped Hunter on the shoulder, then watched as he walked away.

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"This must be so awkward for you."

Hunter couldn't help but smile at the discomfort on Layfield's face.

"You and Shawn have so much history. I mean, after what the guy stole from you."

Helmsley's smile grew wider watching the color drain from the Texan as picked up Layfield's hat from the table, and spun it around on his finger.

"That must have been so rough. I mean, you being a cowboy and all" He paused for effect.

"Honestly, John, what's a cowboy without a hat?" He tossed the hat down as walked from the room, smirking.

He wondered how long it took Layfield to pick himself off of the floor when he left.


	8. Chapter 8

Despise 8

The walk to the limo wasn't nearly as hard this time for Shawn. People were becoming used to his odd new circumstances. The outright staring had turned into uncomfortable glances and whispers. He was now just an object of curiousity.

It had been a quiet night at the arena, and for that he was grateful, the intense conversation with Hunter had been emotionally draining. John had been conspicuously absent, Shawn had not seen him at all since they had arrived at the arena that night.

The driver was waiting to open his door, as always and Shawn found his step quickening, he was eager to get home tonight. As he drew closer, and leaned down to get in, he realised that something wasn't right.

John was slumped in his seat, his face in his hands. He was visibly trembling. Shawn glanced at the driver, to gain some clue to what was happening, but the man's face remained stony, a picture of discretion, his eyes fixed on anything but the man inside.

Shawn paused, uncertain how to proceed. Should he simply turn and leave, give the man his privacy? It didn't seem right to just walk away and leave him like that, but Shawn didn't know the man well enough to offer him comfort. What could he say or do when he didn't even know what had made him so upset?

In the end, Shawn's compassionate nature guided him. He stepped inside and sat down quietly, near enough to make the point that he was there if he was needed.

The limo rolled off, into the night as Layfield remained hunched in silence. After a few long moments, Shawn felt his hand twitch, instinctly needing to reach out for the man. Finally, Layfield lifted his head and resumed his regular posture in the seat.

His face was dry, if he had been weeping, any traces were no longer visible for Shawn.

"I'm sorry for that." Layfield's voice sounded composed, but his hands were still trembling. "I did not mean to do that in front of you." He was obviously ashamed, a touch of color came into his cheeks and Shawn had an uncomfortable flash of memory.

The Shower. The man. His shame.

Shawn gave into his impulse and grasped Layfield's hand. There was a barely perceptible squeeze. They rode on together in silence, hands still joined until the driver opened the door back at the hotel. 


	9. Chapter 9

That night, Shawn awoke screaming, his dreams returning with an avenging force. He flung himself around in his bed,  
crying out the darkness. Then came a shaft of light.

His weary eyes opened to see a dark silouette of a man standing his doorway, an object in his hand, then the room was bathed in light.

"Jesus, Shawn, What the hell is happening?"

When Shawn's eyes adjusted, he saw John darting around the room in his sleepwear, wielding a gun.

"John, it's okay...I was just dreaming. There's no one here..it's alright."

Finally the big man stopped checking around and laid the firearm on the table.

"I thought someone was in here. I get death threats, Shawn. The way you were yelling, I thought..." the man trailed off as looked down at Shawn, weeping in his rumbled bed.

"I have nightmares. I should have said..." Shawn drew his knees to his chest and trying to subdue his shaking. Layfield's face softened, he passed his hand threw his chocolate hair then knelt on the floor beside him.

"I never thought about that happening. I didn't realise.." John's voice trailed off and Shawn felt a gentle nudge at his hand. Their fingers entertwined as they had in the limo. It was so easy and so right.

Everything in Shawn wanted to be held, wanted his tears to be kissed away but the hand squeezing him tightly was enough to make him feel as if things would be alright.

"I have them..sometimes." John's voice was soft. "I had them for years but...I saw someone and they got better after that.  
I never thought that you might..I never saw it from that way."

Shawn didn't understand completely what John was trying to say, but the words and the closeness was so comforting that he didn't worry, he just listened as John continued to speak.

"Sometimes we do things....I know that."

Shawn's head shot up in amazement. What had he said in his sleep as he was dreaming? John almost sounded as if he really understood, as if he knew what Shawn had done.

"I know what it's like when you drink too much....I've done that..and you do things then that you wouldn't ever do if you weren't like that..."

The words were like medicine to Shawn's wounded soul and he wept openly, his face pressed into his knees.

There was a quiver in John's voice when he spoke again.

"I didn't mean it for you to take it like that. I wanted to make you feel better. I'm sorry. I....this isn't easy."

In that moment, Shawn felt John's shadow pass over him, then arms wrapped around his chest, holding him tight.

"I know, I know." John whispered into his hair. "I understand now. I understand."

Somehow, everything for Shawn was right. 


	10. Chapter 10

The morning light warmed Shawn's face and the first time in so many years, he met the day with a smile. He stretched out his limbs, then clung even tighter to the warmth pressed so close against him.

His face snuggled against the soft, silk fabric as he absently caressed at the body against him. An answering moan made Shawn's smile go broader, then his eyes flew open and shot upwards, running up the broad chest to the angelic face, as suddunly he realised.

It was John.

They had fallen asleep together, somehow in the night while John held him. There was no one at blame, it had been entirely innocent, but waking with John shook Shawn to his core. It felt so right.

The mattress shifted beneath him, and he turned to look at John as the man rolled onto his back and stretched. Then he too jolted upright.

Color flooded his cheeks when his eyes met Shawn's and he fumbled around with the covers in another bout of modesty, even though, in his pajamas, he was fully dressed.

"I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I didn't mean anything by it..."

Shawn silenced him when he reached for his hand.

"I know.." Shawn entertwined his fingers with John's. "It was my fault just as much. I know you didn't mean anything.  
I appreciate the way you helped. I feel so much better."

A light came into John's eyes.

"I do too. I didn't think that I would but...this partnership...it was a good idea. I feel better about you than I did."

It was a odd statement, but Shawn could see how sincere he was.

"Come on." the big man smiled suddunly and Shawn couldn't help but be charmed by it. "Let's go get something to eat." 


	11. Chapter 11

It was afternoon before Shawn began to pack for his flight back home. He and John had awoken so late that by the time they had eaten, it had been nearly twelve oclock.

John was a whirlwind of text, talk and paperwork-he had missed several calls while they had slept, but Shawn wasn't offended by his lack of attentiveness. The Icon needed time alone with his thoughts. He felt so confused by all these things that were happening, yet happy at the same time. He had rested so peacefully wrapped in John's arms, more contented than he was even with his wife.

The thought brought tears to his eyes. Shawn loved his family, thats why he had come to work for John in the first place,  
yet last night, it seemed like everything in the Heartbreak kid's life had changed. He almost felt redeemed. John's understanding somehow meant everything to Shawn, even though he didn't understand why.

As he stuffed the last of things in the suitcase, Shawn couldn't take his eyes off of the bed. His body shivered at the memory of the warmth of John's body, of how it felt under his innocently caressing hands. Shawn shut his eyes tight, he had to will these thoughts away. He needed this time at home, he realised, to clear his head, and gain perspective on these new events.

John was waiting at the door when Shawn came out of his room. He was still on the phone, but he smiled at Shawn when he saw him and pulled the cell away from his ear.

"I've got to go to Nashville tonight, if you don't mind, I'll ride down to the airport with you"  
Shawn couldn't help but smile as he nodded. No one would ever believe the Heartbreak kid if he had told them that Jbl had asked for permission to ride in his own car. There was so much about John that people didn't realise, sides to him that he didn't let others know. Shawn wondered why the man felt obligated to put on such a front for the world, but at the same time he felt touched that the Big Man had chosen to let him, of all people,in.

Shawn's terminal was first in line when they got to the airport, and John uncharacteristically hung up his phone to say goodbye. It was akward somehow and as they shook hands on the sidewalk, Shawn had an uncomfortable urge to embrace him.  
It took a mighty effort to walk away, but Shawn only made it a few steps before he turned around.

John was still waiting at the door of the limo, watching him and Shawn's resolved fell away at the sight. He ran back across the sidewalk and took the man in his arms, oblivious to the stares of passersby.

Inside the terminal, Hunter Hearst Helmsley was waiting as his baggage was checked. He had been watching the whole exchange from a nereby window, a scowl spreading over his face. 


	12. Chapter 12

The strength to pull away had been long in coming. Shawn didn't know how long they had stood on the sidewalk in each other's arms. Finally, after many contented sighs and a few tears, he managed to lift his face from John's chest and look him in the eye.

The sweet smile he saw caused his knees to weaken and there was an answering wettness in Layfield's eye. They stood with their fingers joined for a few moments longer, then, mutually, their hands slipped away.

"I'll call...when I can." Shawn sniffed back his tears. Why was this so hard?

"I'll wait for that." John's voice was quivering. "I'll see you Sunday, okay?"

The big hand clapped him on the shoulder as Shawn turned to pick up his bags.

"See you then, John, I..." Their eyes met again and Shawn bit back the words that threatened to spill from his mouth. How had this happened? He couldn't really...not this fast.

He saw Layfield's hand tremble on the door.

"Me too. I..."

They nodded at each other simultaneously then the car door pulled closed at the same time that Shawn walked away.

Every step across the terminal was like walking in sand. The world seemed to shift beneath Shawn's feet. Everything that was happening was so confusing yet it felt so right.

How had it happened? When had it happened? When had John come to mean so much?

Shawn was so introspective at this moment, that he didn't notice his collegues from work waiting in the lounge, whispering as he walked by. He went through the motions of checking his baggage, staring off into the world vacant, wrapped in his own mind.

It was all he could do not to weep in public, to run back out the door after John. Shawn couldn't stand even these few minutes apart, he couldn't imagine how he would make it the next few days.

He slumped in a chair in the lounge, with his head in his hands and wiped his tears before they could run. A shadow passed over him and when he looked up, Hunter was standing in front of his chair.

"What has he done to you?" Hunter was speaking too loudly. " I swear if he....I saw that little scene outside."

Shawn rose up from his chair and drew nose to nose with the massive man.

"If you saw it, then you know he hasn't done anything. It was me."

The tense confrontation was drawing attention from others in the lounge, Shawn backed away and eased his posture with a meaningful look. Helmsley did the same.

"I don't want to fight with you about this, Hunter." Shawn whispered. "Not now or here. Just call me when I get home.  
This is private, okay?"

"Not anymore, Shawn." Hunter's tone was baiting. " I wasn't the only one who saw you. Half of the Wwe is here and they are all talking."

Shawn lowered his head. What had he done to John, to himself? How would he ever explain?

"They are saying that he pays you for more than help in the ring, Shawn. Do you expect me to stand by and let him make you look like a whore?"

Shawn's temper ignited, the old resentment, the blame, boiled away inside him.

"If I am a whore, its because of what I did for you. You don't know John, you don't know anything about this. Away from the business he is a different man."

"This is all still that isn't it? You just can't get over what happened." All of Shawn's concerns about Hunter's morals were realised in that moment. Hunter was so sick that he truly didn't understand.

"This is just guilt," Helmsley continued his tirade. "He's making you feel guilty, isn't he?"

Shawn was incredulous. How could any of this be John's fault? How could John possibly make him guilty?

"I know you're angry and I know you think you care about me, but Hunter this is way out of line. I will always feel guilty,  
because of you....and me but John has nothing to do with this."

Helmsley's shoulders visibly relaxed and his head dropped gently.

"So he hasn't....I mean...things are still alright."

"He hasn't hurt me. He won't hurt me. I was crying because of me, not John. Call me later, I will try to explain."

With that Shawn turned and walked away across the building, if he hurried, he just might make his flight.


	13. Chapter 13

It would be a long flight home for the Icon. That morning, Shawn had felt certain that he needed the time away from his new situation to sort out his feelings, but now, alone on the plane, he wasn't so certain.

Shawn was glad to be going home, and eager to see his family, but something in him had been irrevocably changed the previous night as John had held and talked with him. He had felt it first that morning as he had stared at their bed, but it had hit him full force when he walked away.

Even now, he shivered at the memory of John's eyes and embrace and he wondered again how he would make it through the next few days.

As he left the terminal, Shawn looked at his phone. He wanted so badly to call and see how John was doing. All the way home he had fought the impulse to dial, he was so preoccupied that it took him a moment to notice that his wife's car wasn't in the driveway, and that his house was dark inside.

Something was wrong. She was always there when he got home. Shawn ran up to the front door, fumbling for his keys, but the note in the frame stopped him in his tracks.

Frantically, he tore it free and struggled to read it by his cell phone light. After a moment, the note dropped slowly to the ground and Shawn sank to his knees.

The tears were torn from him violently and he topped down onto his side as the wind carried the note away. 


	14. Chapter 14

He was so cold.

"Shawn....Shawn?? God, what's wrong...I can hear you crying....Shawn!"

Somehow, someway, John was there, Shawn could hear him faintly, and he cried out for him in between sobbing gasps.

"John, she's gone. She took them. She left me. John...where are you?"

Shawn had forgotten the phone in his hand. Somehow, as he lay, he had hit John's speedial, he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Shawn, I'm on my way." The Icon could hear the tears in John's voice. "I can be there in a few hours. You wait for me,  
okay? You stay on the line with me. I'm coming to get you."

Shawn clung to that lifeline, to John's voice in the darkness until the twin headlights shone in the driveway.

"I'm here, I have you."

John's arms were around him, lifting him and carrying him away from the cold, damp ground.

"I'm with you. I've got you."

Shawn felt the tender touches at his face and his back and the warmth wrapping around him. He was safe now. John would keep him safe. He would take away this bad dream.

The long white limo pulled away from the house that had been Shawn's happy, loving home. 


	15. Chapter 15

A cold, rush of air jolted Shawn from oblivion. Instantly, he began to shake and weep, his hands fumbling for the cross around his neck. Suddunly it was just there, pressed right in his hand, and he began his whispered prayer.

John's arms wrapped around him instantly in silent support, and Shawn whimpered into the big man's chest.

"It's okay." John's voice sounded labored and Shawn realised that he was being carried. Cold and shivers passed over him again, then heat in rapid succession.

There was traffic and voices, doors whooshing and thunking, then footsteps, breathing and silence.

Almost immediately, Shawn felt John pull away and something soft pressed against the length of his body. He whimpered again,  
and reached out for the other man. His hand was instantly taken.

"Shawn, I've still got you. It will be okay."

Then John's arms were around him, and Shawn drew his body closer this time, still shivering hard, even though he was holding John so tight.

Suddunly, the big body withdrew again, but not completely this time, then a heaviness began to slide over Shawn's body. The scent of fresh linen surrounded him, then John was near once more.

"It will stop soon, I promise it will. This will make you warm."

Shawn drew the blanket nearer and the big man with it, pressing his back tight against John's chest. John's arms wrapped around him, and their hands intertwined around Shawn's cross as the Icon silently prayed. 


	16. Chapter 16

Light.

shawn pulled his eyelids tighter, fighting the invading brilliance. He shifted, still lost in blissful oblivion, frowning slightly as the cool air brushed at his face and neck, he scooted backwards, seeking John's warmth.

At the same time, he reached forward, feeling outward into the bed, but only covers slid under his hands. Instantly his awareness returned with an influx of memories and pain. His eyes shot open and then closed again in relief when he saw John working in the outer room.

Knowing that he was close comforted Shawn, things almost felt normal, like a regular morning, even though the Showstoppers whole world had changed.  
Reaching for his cross, Shawn crawled from bed and dropped to his knees to pray. He asked for his family's safety and happiness, and for the strength to face the world without them. Then, tearfully, the Showstopper gave thanks for the blessings that he knew would one day come when finally, he would be forgiven of his sins.

For a moment, he remained, basking in grace, then, Shawn rose and walked to the door. Typically, John was on the phone,  
but there was something in his tone, and his manner that made Shawn pause at the door.

"Darling....listen, I know that you've had a lot of troubles but I promise to make that right. I'll pay him more, I'll give him twice what he has now if you'll just come down here."

Shawn's eyes widened as he took the words in. The big man continued, rubbing his forehead, stress written all over his body.

"Please, darling, come and talk to him at least. Don't leave it this way....at least let him see his kids. I'll write a check, right now for everything....more than you had before. Just talk to him, please."

Shawn shivered, tears flowing once more as he recognised the faint voice of his wife, speaking on the other end of the phone.  
He couldn't make out her words, but the Showstopper could hear the emotion, the quickness of her speech.

Suddenly, John's face colored, he lowered his face down on the desk, banging it slightly with his head. Shawn saw his eyes grow wet.

"You know,,,,you know that's stress, that happens to men when they worry. If you'll give it time...when you get the money back..."

Shawn lips parted and his jaw dropped in horrible realisation as he buried his face in his hands, this time with shame. He did fail her at times, as a man, because of his dreams, but that fact that she would tell something so intimate...the fact that John knew...broke Shawn's heart to pieces.

He turned away, not able to bear hearing anymore, not able to bear the knowledge of how much she must hate him to shame him in this way.

After a few moments, he looked up again in time to see John wiping his eyes as he lay the phone on the desk. He glanced toward Shawn's room, and the Showstopper withdrew quickly, climbing back in bed before he was seen.

A moment later, John's face peered around the door. He looked wistful, but composed and his eyes widened when he saw Shawn awake.

"I'm sorry." his voice was a whisper. " I meant to be here when you woke up." His words trailed off as their eyes connected and Shawn broke away, his chin quivering in shame.

Gently, John nudged at his hand. Their fingers slipped together and Shawn found the courage to speak.

"I heard." Then he broke down and sobbed.

John reached for him, pressing Shawn's face against his shoulder, stroking at his head until bliss reclaimed him. 


	17. Chapter 17

It was no longer light when Shawn was roused again. This time no coolness broke his oblivious contentment, warmth pressed all around him. He sighed, snuggling tighter and felt the gentle pressure of a returned squeeze.

For a moment Shawn drifted, teetering on the edge of slumber, but in the end, his thoughts took away his sleep.

How could he have lived with his wife every day and not known that she was unhappy enough to leave him? Over and again, he replayed dinners, breakfasts, nights together on the sofa, everything from the last weeks and months. He had been so worried,  
so concerned about the money, and always, he had dwelt on the things he had done.

There in the darkness, Shawn had a sad epiphany. He had become so absorbed, so lost in the horrible things he had done that he had neglected his family in the same way he had squandered his money.

How many nights had she slept alone while he paced in the living room trying to pray away his nightmares? How many times had he turned away from her lovemaking because of a sudden memory?

Hunter's taunting words flashed into his mind.

"You just can't let this go, can you?"

Shawn hadn't let it go, his guilt wouldn't let him and now it had cost him his wife.

His eyes stung as he remembered what she had told John, because now, he understood. All those nights someone else could have loved her, given her the kindness she deserved.

He had been selfish to try, to marry, knowing what kind of man he was. Before her, before he found the light, before that night, Shawn had always been gay. Maybe even praying couldn't change that, couldn't make him the kind of man she needed.

Maybe he would never deserve forgiveness or recieve salvation, no matter how much he prayed.

"Shhhh....shhhh now." John's soft, dreamy whisper was against his cheek and Shawn realised that he must have spoken some of his thoughts aloud.

"Always get forgiven. Always."

The words moved Shawn to his core. This time he did pray, a silent thank you for his newfound friend, who even in sleep knew just what to say to raise him up.

Without thinking, Shawn's hand reached out to sink into the Big Man's hair, pulling his head downward, lifting his own to meet it.

For a moment there was silence in the dark room, neither man dared to move or breathe. Shawn loosened his grip, pressing the Big Man's head slowly down to his shoulder. Once there, both men sighed, the tension broken.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, John." Shawn didn't dare to move his hand.

"S'okay." the sleepy voice answered. Then Shawn felt John's lips nuzzle his shoulder as he whispered again, "Trust you."

A sigh ran the length of his body and he clutched tightly, caressing at John's head and back.

Outside the room the sun was rising. The first, sweet shafts of morning light touched at the windows and Shawn knew it was a sign. John was right, all nights ended and so would Shawn's. Right now, the light was upon him, no matter what he had done.

Looking down at the sleeping man, he gave thanks once again, pressing a kiss to his head. 


	18. Chapter 18

"Shawn."

The Icon smiled at the sound of his voice, at the sweet light of forgiveness still shining beneath his tightened eyelids. A smile played at his slumbery lips, despite the cool air against his body that told him he was alone in bed.

He lay still, feigning sleep, and his smile broadened when he felt the bed shift beside him.

"Shawn." the voice was much, much nearer.

Still he lay motionless, until he felt the next whisper of his name in breathe on his skin.

Instantly, he reached up and embraced John tightly against him, spinning, using his falling momentum to flip the Big Man over onto his back.

Chuckles vibrated against his chest and caresses ran over his back.

"Time out! Time out!" The Cowboy chortled between belly laughs.

"Time out?" Shawn rose up on his elbows, leaning down over the Big Man's face. "This ain't football, Big Guy. There's no time out in wrestling."

By way of demonstration, Shawn slid into a pinning postition, slipping his hand under John's leg and holding down his chest.

"One." he yelled and John yelped, throwing up a shoulder. Shawn collapsed onto his chest, playfully pushing it down while frantically counting, but to no avail.

"OKay, you've done it now. I'm Hulking up, Big Guy." Shawn sat up on his knees and began to shake and puff, waggling a disapproving finger. John sputtered furiously, then faked punches rained down on Shawn's chest.

Shawn ignored them, wooting loudly, then he went for the coup-de-gras. Giggling, and from knee height, he dropped an akward leg on John's chest.

The Big Man writhed, then feigned unconsciousness.

Shawn went for the three.

This time the Big Man's shoulder stayed down, but his whole body was shaking with furious laughter.

"He's done it..the Hulkster has pinned the Big Guy." Shawn rose up over him, flexing his muscles, then he too was overcome with giggles, falling forward onto the John, shaking.

For a moment, they lay intertwined, laughter replaced with contented sighs.

"Big Guy, you're a blessing, you know that." Shawn looked up from John's chest to look in his eyes.

John's face colored slightly and Shawn couldn't help but stroke his cheek.

"Until this...until I got to know you..." the Big Man faltered, his eyes growing slightly wet. "I don't think I was ever happy."

He reached outward, pulling Shawn's face down to meet his. Instantly Shawn's hands wrapped around his shoulders, lifting John's head to meet him.

This time, after, they just looked at each other, stroking at each other's faces.

"John....I."

The Big Man smiled and Shawn lost his words.

Then, John nodded gently. "You know I..." Then his cheeks colored.

Shawn knew.

The light was still shining. No matter what.

Shawn knew that they were forgiven.

Shawn knew he would be alright. 


	19. Chapter 19

"You know what...I'm hungry."

Shawn's "pillow" shook beneath his head as the Cowboy laughed.

"Damn, I'm glad to hear you say that."

Shawn felt the tender squeeze.

"That's why I came to wake you earlier."

Shawn lifted his cheek, replacing it with his chin as he met the Big Man's eye, curious now what he meant.

"..at first," John continued, then faltered as quickly and Shawn could tell that he was hesitant to bring up the painful memories.

"It's okay, John. I don't mind talking about things."

The Cowboy stroked his cheek gently before he spoke.

"At first, I thought it was better to let you sleep, but it's been so long..." he faltered once more, then the big smile lit up his face.

"I hatched a plan." He tightened his eyes, in mock expression of deviousity.

Shawn laughed.

"I give up, Big Guy. Take me to the food."

Suddenly Shawn felt himself being lifted, the world turned upside down and began to move. Shawn laughed once more as he realised that John had taken him literally. He was being carried from the bed and down the hall, his head dangling down over John's big back, his waist thrown over the big Texan's shoulder.

He laughed and laughed until finally, the world settled down and put itself upright. Shawn found himself standing in front of a bathroom mirror, John's smiling face joining him in it's reflection.

"I don't see no buffet, big man..."

Then Shawn fell silent, frowning at his own image, he was still wearing the clothes he had gone home in. It occured to him that he was bound to smell.

Curious but cautious, he lifted his arm and turned his face to sniff.

"Whoops. Sorry, Big Guy....I kind of need a bath."

John's face still smiled in the mirror.

"I wasn't going to say...but.."

Shawn laughed again, they both did and regardless of his stench, John held him close, patting his back tenderly.

"I got your bag...back there...." John was still awkward talking about that bad night, and Shawn reassured him with a squeeze.

"I didn't want to go through it, I didn't know if you had anything clean."

Shawn lifted his head at look in John's face.

"I don't...she usually..." his voice caught, despite his assurances to John, it still hurt to think about. "She washed my clothes when I came home."

Shawn felt John's forehead press against his and he reclined into the movement, weeping, letting the big Texan take his weight.

"I thought.." Shawn could hear the emotion, the tears in John's voice. This sweet man always cried with him. " I thought it would be like that. I bought you some things...I had them cleaned and put them in the drawers in your suite."

Shawn shook his head in amazement. John was always thinking of him and sharing in his feelings. This time, it was Shawn's voice that quivered.

"Big Guy, you have a heart of gold."

The hand on his back stroked gently and squeezed him close once more as the Big Man whispered.

"Don't let it get out."

Shawn smiled, his sad tears fading away to memories.

"I won't. You can keep pretending to be mean."

Shawn smile grew wider as heard John groan.

"I am not pretending. I can still kick your skinny ass." but Shawn heard the amusement in his voice.

"Alright...alright. I'm getting in the shower."

Shawn withdrew as John walked to the door. In the threshold the Big Man paused to look at his watch.

"If you aren't down in thirty, I'm coming to get you. So says the Wrestling God." he threw back his head and spoke to the sky.

Shawn chuckled at the Big Man's back as he disapeered down the hall.

"I hear that. I am not funny." his voice called out in the distance.

Shawn leaned out the door.

"Hey...."

John's head peeked around the far corner.

"Yeah."

"You're great."

The Wrestling God blushed.

Shawn ducked back behind the doorframe just in time to miss the flying shirt.


	20. Chapter 20

Shawn shook his head as he opened the dresser drawers. For a brief moment as he had showered, he began to wonder if he might find a pinstipped suit and silk tie waiting for him outside. Now, as he lifted the jeans from the drawer, he realised how silly the idea had been.

John was always considerate but Shawn had had no idea how observant the Cowboy was. The jeans, the shirt, even the jacket were exactly the same as the ones the Icon had worn to Armaggeddon. There was only one detail that John hadn't gotten right. Shawn frowned slightly as he held up the silky boxers. He hadn't worn those in years, but he could hardly blame John, after all, when it came to intimate wear, the Cowboy had had to guess.

Shawn was half dressed when his nose caught the first scent of meat. His stomach growled furiously as he pulled on his jeans. Socks could wait until after dinner, the Icon left the room in his bare feet. Out in the hall, the scent was stronger. Barbeque.

The Showstopper smiled and sighed.

"John, I'm going to kiss you."

Shawn smile widened when he heard the sound of the Cowboy's chuckling. The Icon followed both sound and scent to an open door at the end of the hall. His nose hadn't lied. There was brisket, ribs, bread and a welcoming chair was pulled out from the table. Shawn stepped forward eagerly, smile spreading allover his face.

"John, John....I think I love..."

Then the Icon froze in place. Amazed, he took in the tousled strands of John's always perfect hair, unraveled and slightly damp. Unbiden, his eyes wandered downward, then up, taking in the long legs hugged tight by the clinging demin jeans. At the top his thighs were brushed by the starched white shirt. At the front, it was opened, a broad expanse of John's skin was exposed to his gaze.

"You thirsty, Shawn?"

The question brought the Showstopper's eyes back from their wandering to settle on John's face. There was a hint of color in the big man's cheeks that was deepening under the Icon's slack-jawed stare. Finally, Shawn forced his unruly eyes down to the empty glass in the cowboy's hand.

"Yeah, yes I am, John." Shawn voice was thick and he had to swallow to clear it out.

The big man turned his back once again, this time to pop the cork from a bottle.

"That's a new look, big guy." Shawn tried to sound casual, despite his visual groping.

"You're not the only one that's outta clean clothes. My suits are in the hotel cleaners."

John smiled as he handed Shawn his glass and the Icon found that he was staring again.

"I like it." Shawn heard himself say before he could slap his mouth shut. "You...you look great."

"Thanks."

The blush deepened on John's cheeks and he nervously studied his boots. Shawn couldn't resist the urge to tease him, to break the odd tension.

"You look cute when you blush."

He crouched down quickly, ready to duck whatever was playfully thrown.

"I'm gonna overlook that," the tone was gruff, but Shawn could read right through it now. He could hear the hidden smile. "on account of the fact that you are delirious from hunger. Ribs or brisket?"

Shawn couldn't stop smiling as he bellied up to the table.

"Ribs AND brisket and some of that bread."

The Cowboy grumbled as he filled Shawn's plate, but Shawn knew that his eyes were teasing.

"Take one of these too." He tossed a napkin in the Icon' direction. "I don't want you getting any sauce on my mouth when I get my kiss."


	21. Chapter 21

"I'm not talking, am I?" The Showstopper looked up guiltily from his bone-filled plate. Truthfully, he had been so busy wolfing down ribs that the Icon hadn't even glanced at the cowboy on the other side of the table. Shawn was relieved to see him smile.

"Don't let that bother you, you just keep on eating." Then the big man reached out for the platter of ribs. "I guess its safe to get close to the food now." Shawn could tell now he was being teased. "I was afraid of being set on fire by the sparks coming off of that fork."

Shawn chuckled, nearly spitting out the wine he was drinking, then he frowned as he glanced down at John's plate. The big man hadn't eaten a thing this whole time, and even now, he was gingerly picking away at a single, small chunk of meat.

"I didn't take everything, did I?"

John looked up, giving Shawn an awkward smile as the Icon scanned the half-full platters.

"No, Shawn, there's plenty, I just.." the Showstopper frowned as the cowboy shifted in his chair, a bried pained expression passing over his face. "I can read the signs."

Shawn didn't understand at all what the big man meant. "Signs?"

Again John shifted and this time, he glanced away. Instinctively, Shawn reached out for his hand, but the big table was an obstacle he couldn't overcome.

"The jelly belly loser signs." It was barely a whisper but it was like a dagger to Shawn's insides. Why hadn't he just bit his tounge when he read John's body language?

"You don't..." Shawn found he had to clear his voice. "You don't believe that...you know they are just..." He couldn't find the words he needed.

John didn't look up, even as Shawn rose from his chair to take his hand.

"Big guy, you want to know my deepest, darkest secret?"

A flicker of a smile lit up in the big man's eye as he finally looked at Shawn. Slowly, the Showstopper took down the elastic band from his hair, shaking it free.

John's eyes softened, Shawn felt a gentle touch at his shoulder as big man tenderly gathered up his locks and resecured the band.

"You didn't have to do that." Shawn felt the hands sliding down across his head, pulling him gently in. "I swear..."  
Tears choked off the big man's voice, but Shawn could feel the soft pressure of John's lips as they brushed his now-covered scalp.

"You're still..." John's voice caught once more, but the Icon knew what he had intended to say. "Every man out there is still jealous of the Heartbreak kid."

Shawn smiled against the big cowboy's chest.

"And everyONE is jealous of you, Mister Moneybags on the Fox news owns his own beverage company, staying at the best hotel in town while all us "regular guys" are sleeping two in a bed at Motel Six."

John's chest vibrated with laughter against Shawn's face.

"You know that's why, don't you John?" Shawn looked up, taking the big man's face in his hand.

"I'd like to think it's that, but I'm still just eating this one piece."

Shawn sighed when the cowboy smiled.

"Big guy, if you could bottle THAT up....you'd be a TRILLIONaire."

Color lit the cowboy's cheeks again and Shawn had to fight the urge..

Then his eyes began to close as the soft breath brushed against his cheek. The gentle pressure sent shivers and sighs through the Icon's body.

"John." It was like an exhale, the first words after..

Shawn's eyes fluttered open too late to surpress the image. Warmth flooded his body.

_John's arms wrapped tight around him as the the Icon clung to his back, bare skin flowing under his hand._

Now the Icon's cheeks were staining, heat pouring across his skin in scalding blush as the Cowboy retreated back to the window like a shy boy. Shawn saw that his hands were trembling as he reached down for another bottle of wine. When he rose again, there was a mischievious twinkle in his smile.

"You look cute when you're shy, Shawn."

The Icon had to bite the inside of his cheek to surpress his own mischievious smile.

"I must be, Big Guy, after all, you were the one who was supposed to get the kiss.."


	22. Chapter 22

"Shawn."

The Icon looked up from his wine at the gentle warning. The hotel servants had arrived to clear away their dinner and Shawn turned his back to disguise his burning cheeks. Had they heard what he had said to John? Had they seen? He stole a glance at John guiltily, but the big cowboy just shook his head and smiled.

"Come on." he whispered, gesturing at the door subtly. Shawn had learned by now that they were expected to "retire" from a room when the servants came, so he followed along.

In the hallway, when they were out of earshot, John came nearer suddenly to whisper in Shawn's ear.

"They clean the bedroom, Shawn. They know we..use..the same bed."

Shawn's cheeks suddenly grew even warmer as the cowboy's words sunk in.

"They think...." The Icon slapped his forehead, then covered his face with hand. Why hadn't he thought about how this looked for John?

"God, John, I didn't realise....I'm sorry."

His hand was gently lifted away.

"For the first few days," then the big man faltered, his eye dropping down to the floor. "I felt like I was wearing a sign but..then I thought about what this meant for you."

When John looked up again, his dark eyes were wet.

"Whatever they say about me won't be half of the hell you'll get. They'll..."

Shawn reached outward and took John's face in his hand, stroking it in encouragement. After a moment, the Cowboy lowered his head down to press their foreheads together.

"They'll say I make you..that you do it for money. Shawn, I can't let that happen."

The big man took in a ragged breath then gripped Shawn by the shoulders.

"I won't hold you to that contract...not now. I know you only did this for your family. You don't have to go through this."

Shawn tightened his hands on John's face.

"_I_ don't have to go through it? What about you, John? Do you realise how much you've done for me?" Shawn gently shook the big man. "Do you think I could just leave you...and give you nothing? I'll get you that title just like I said I would."

Shawn trembled with emotion.

"I can't let you do that. What the hell kind of friend would I be if I..." Again John's eyes lowered to the floor.

"You're my friend here. In this hotel room, but at that arena...you're my boss." Shawn squeezed the big man's cheek. "I'm still broke, John, and when she serves me...." Shawn faltered this time, until the hands on his shoulders pulled him into an embrace.

"I'm going to need money for the settlement...for alimony. John, I don't even a place to live."

Tears flowed down the Icons' cheeks. John stroked them away.

"Yes you do." Shawn lifted his head and his hand to stroke the Cowboy's face once more and then...he eyes closed as he pulled John's head down to meet...

The moment lingered, entermingled with sighs, then began again. Shawn's hands slid through John's hair. The Cowboy's chest heaved against his own, his breath coming in short, quick spasms as mouth opened for...Shawn saw stars, his head began to swim, suddenly he was gasping like a fish pulled out of the sea, his head on John's shoulder, John sighing into his ear. A gold, glowing light exploded behind Shawn's eye..

For a moment, all was silent in the small hallway.

"Big guy..."Shawn's voice was thick to his own ears. "How'd you like your kiss?"

A soft chuckle sent shivers against Shawn's shoulder.

"It was passable." Shawn knew him too well now. He could hear that John was breathless.

"How come I'm holding you up then?"

"I'm holding you." the big man grumbled playfully. "....I think."


	23. Chapter 23

_Short chapter here, I'm sorry. This is basically a segway from the peace of their isolation in the hotel to being thrown in with the lions at Raw. From this point, their bond will be tested a lot but as you'll read, they manage to hold on to their little island and they may need it....if Hunter has his way. Shawn didn't call him back as he agreed and you can expect that soon, he'll have alot to say about that and about John. Shawn's nightmare hasn't ended just yet as he will soon learn the identity of his victim. Will he and John's love survive it? Stay tuned :D_

"Are you ready, Shawn?"

The Icon looked up from his bag at the smiling cowboy in the door frame. It was nearly time for their flight to Raw but Shawn was wistful as he looked down at the bed. So much had happened in this room that, to Shawn, it had a feeling of home even it was just a hotel room.

Shawn was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even realise that John had come in until he felt the pressure of his hand on his shoulder. Without a thought, he reached up to grasp it with his own, and sighed.

"We can't stay here forever, can we, big guy?"

John's chin rested against the top of Shawn's head, then his cheek slid down across Shawn to rest near his ear.

"If you want...I can do that."

Shawn's eyes widened as he turned around to look at John's expression. There was only sincerity in the sweet dark eyes.

"You mean that don't you? If I wanted to live here you'd buy this room wouldn't you?"

John shifted nervously, then reached into his pocket. When he withdrew his hand from it, he pressed something into Shawn's palm. The Icon turned over his palm. His jaw hit the floor. The key card in his hand was embellished with his name-and John's-underneath the room number.

Shawn eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, John." He couldn't find any other words as he watched John blush, turning his white hat nervously in his hand.

"You don't have to stay. I just thought we could come back sometimes..if you want."

Shawn silenced him with a brush of his hand against his reddened cheek as he struggled to find his own voice. Finally he fell back into his old, familiar teasing.

"This is way, way bigger than ribs and brisket. Do you think can take the kiss you're earned, big man?"

The dark eyes twinkled at Shawn.

"I still say it was you that fainted."


	24. Chapter 24

Shawn was making one last check through his bags. He was so used to making sure that he didn't leave anything behind that it took him a moment to realise. He didn't have to worry now. This was his home. Smiling, he glanced down at the wallet and the small edge of the key sticking out from it. John, as usual, had taken care of everything. Shawn owed him so much that he didn't know how he'd repay it.

Tonight was John's qualifing match but it was also Shawn's first chance to do something to give back. He had already decided to lose his own match, but now, he took that thought one step further. If John needed help, if he couldn't win for himself, no matter what, Shawn would help. He didn't care what people thought or said about him as long as John was happy.

Just the words, just the thought of John made him feel so good. So good, in fact, that he wasn't concentrating. Had he forgotten anything he needed?

He had his clothes, his shaving kit, his wallet and his watch...phone...where was his phone? Out of habit, he glanced down at his belt, where he ususally wore it. Of course, it wasn't there, but where was the last place he'd seen it? The porch. That night John had come for him. It was probably still there but after laying outside for five days..

He shook his head. It didn't really matter now. John was with him. His wife no longer cared where he was and had a new man to call if she needed anything. The only other person who ever called on it was Hunter.

Hunter. Groaning, Shawn rubbed his forehead. He had promised to call and explain about John. It was going to be difficult enough to make him understand before, but now that he was going to be divorced...Hunter would never accept that he and John were just fr..

_Shawn's hands slid through John's hair. The Cowboy's chest heaved against his own, his breath coming in short, quick spasms as mouth opened for...Shawn saw stars, his head began to swim, suddenly he was gasping like a fish pulled out of the sea, his head on John's shoulder, John sighing into his ear. A gold, glowing light exploded behind Shawn's eye.._

Shivers ran through Shawn's body, his heart pounding, even now, just thinking about that night. Just thinking about John made him tremble. What he felt for John..it wasn't friendship. He..

God. He..

But it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to John. Now that he was alone, people would talk even worse than before. Shawn didn't care what people said about him but the thought of them hurting John, of the ugly things they would call him...

_Shawn is gay. Shawn is gay. The chant grew louder, filling the huge arena._

Shawn knew he had to keep his divorce secret for now. He had to protect John. If Hunter knew, if he even thought...

Suddenly, something brushed against hand, fingers slipping against his own. Sighing, he instantly squeezed them as he turned around, his other hand slipping around John's waist. They molded together smoothly, as if made one and the same. Shawn felt John' chest gently expand and heard his own sigh. Soft, tender strokes ran across his head and hair to his shoulder.

"You still chasing those rabbits?"

Shawn smiled at the whimsical expression.

"Yep, I guess I am."

He was gently squeezed.

"You thinking about tonight?"

Shawn nodded.

"John, I....don't want anyone to know about the divorce just yet. I want to..."

Shawn's eyes clenched tight and he squeezed John within an inch of his life.

"I know. I understand." the soft words unwound Shawn's taunt insides. "I been thinking, Shawn, about that and I.." for a moment, John rested his chin against Shawn's cheek and sighed.

"When we get there tonight, I want you to...I want people to think you don't want this partnership."

Shawn lifted his head from John's chest, amazed.

"I can't do that to you, John." his hands stroked at the cowboy's face.

"Yes you can, now. You promise me. If people think you don't want to be here, they won't say those damn things about you.  
Promise me, Shawn."

There were tears in John's voice and his chest was shaking. With a soft,desperate gasp, Shawn rose up on his tiptoes to kiss his neck as his hands pulled gently to lower his head.

Again the world exploded into golden light. soon, he was desperately gasping against John's neck, feeling the cowboys's hard breaths.

"John, I..."the sharp intakes of air broke up Shawn's spoken words but he still spoke them in his mind.

_John, I love you_.


	25. Chapter 25

Shawn felt the tension seeping into his shoulders. He cracked them, raising them up to his ears and down, releasing a slow, audible breath. Even though this was a different terminal, just being at the airport brought up unpleasant memories for Shawn.

Sometime tonight, he would have to talk to Hunter, and after that last, terrible fight, he wasn't looking forward to it. Hunter knew him too well for Shawn to keep anything from him for too long, Eventually, he would guess about the divorce. Shawn could only hope that, despite their strained relationship, Hunter would understand and help him keep his secret.

More than anything, Shawn wanted to protect John, but he couldn't let Hunter know that that was the reason behind the secret. Even though his relationship with Hunter had been platonic since that awful night, the Icon knew that, in some ways, Hunter was still emotionally possessive.

The sound of John's raised voice started Shawn from his thoughts.

The Cowboy was stabbing a finger at empty baggage claim while simultaneously bending the ear of an uninterested airport offical. Shawn had traveled long enough to guess what the problem was. They were here in Denver, but their luggage obviously wasn't. Sighing, Shawn surrendered to the inevitable long wait ahead and parked himself in a chair.

John meanwhile, had raised quite a crowd. He now had three disinterested officals engaged, all the while still texting on his phone. Even when John threw a tantrum, he still multi-tasked.

Shawn watched the show for several minutes. Finally, the Cowboy dismissed his audience and joined Shawn in the lounge. He was still texting, but now at a more furious pace. Shawn had to hide his smile as he watched the grumbling, surly Cowboy vent his frustrations to everyone on his friends's list.

After a few moments, the frantic punching wound down until finally, John slammed the cover shut and settled back in his chair.

Still hiding his smile, Shawn settled in too, instinctively moving closer. He brushed John's shoulder. The cowboy instantly lifted his arm for Shawn to slide in against him. Shawn ducked his head under...then froze, glancing meaningfully at John.

For a moment,the dark eyes looked down at him wistfully, then Shawn withdrew his head. John lowered his arm and Shawn leaned back in his chair once more, his eyes growing wet. In public, they had to be careful, but Shawn wanted so much to lay his head on John's chest.

He sighed in frustration, lowering his eyes to the floor. Gently, John pressed his shoulder against Shawn's. To an observer, it would appear casual, but Shawn understood. He lifted his own arm, laying it on the rest so his shoulder pressed back on John's. It was all they could do for now.

"How long until.." Shawn's voice trailed off, thick with emotion.

"An hour." John was twisting his hat in his hand.

Shawn sighed, a trembling sob passed through his body. The pressure on his shoulder intensified and Shawn pushed back just as hard, grinding against his bicep and elbow. He didn't dare to look him in the eye. If he did..

Shawn knew he would kiss him.

"


	26. Chapter 26

_He looked so beautiful._

_Shawn sighed as looked across the bed at John's peaceful face. Chesnut tendrils, usually flawlessly arranged, were gently disheveled against his forehead. Shawn reached out to stroke them, running his hand along the side of John's head. The flesh beneath his palm rose as John took in a breath, parting his lips as his dark eyes slowly opened. The sweet smile was instant, so warm that Shawn shivered with sweet emotion. The covers between them delicately as John's hand reached outward,  
his fingertips tracing the contours of Shawn's chin and his shoulders._

_His own hand followed suit, tenderly touching the silken fabric of John's pajamas to feel the shape of his neck and his broad shoulder. The fabric parted under his touch. John's skin quivered under the palm of his hand and his dark eyes softened as they joined with Shawn's._

_He was happy for the first time in so long, Shawn could feel the joy shivering in his bones._

_"John." he whispered, just loving the sound, the word._

_Fingers trailed onto his cheek and his whole body sighed beneath them, giving in to their sweet, sleepy touch._

_Giving in so much that those unspoken words broke free from his lips._

_"I love you."_

"Shawn..."

He could hear John's labored breathing, he could feel it, feel the rise of his chest as it rubbed against his shoulder.

"Come on." There was a sweet urgency in his tone, in the fingertips that brushed against back, gently urging him to rise. He staggered to his feet, without opening his eyes, trusting the hand on his arm to lead him.

The sounds of people, squeaking wheels, of an airport loudspeaker slowly him bought him back to the moment even as the sounds grew further away. Finally, a blast of cold air forced his eyes open as it forced his body back against John's. For a moment, he was disoriented, then he saw his own familiar bag being wheeled by on a hauler.

John's chauffeur tipped his hat but Shawn was too bewildered for the moment to understand. Slowly, as he walked, his mind cleared. The airport. The bags. He realised that he must have fallen asleep, must have dreamed the tender moments, the words.,

The chauffeur was opening the limo's door, John was helping him in, Shawn could feel the tension, coiled in the man. The door closed, shutting out the cold air, in that instant, John's arms were around him.

Shawn took him in as trembling fingers moved across his back. John's dark eyes were sparkling in the faint glow of the roof light. They were wet.

Confused, Shawn reached out, cupping his face in his hands. He could feel the sigh passing through John's body, the tension easing under his hand as the tears spilled down on his fingers.

What had happened to move John in this way? He was trembling allover, Shawn could feel the quivers against his chest and his knee, everywhere they were in contact. He was so close, closer then when they slept. His lips lowered downward, closer still and Shawn felt the kisses on his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, then..

The gold light. He fell backwards, gasping, John's weight dropping onto his chest, his back rising as, he too, grasped for air. Shawn stroked at the back of his neck as the big man gently squeezed his waist.

"I...."He whispered between gasps, Shawn could feel the urgency swelling again.

"Shhh." Shawn caressed his face. "Easy big fella."

A soft chuckle vibrated against his chest, the tension pouring out once more, as it always did when they teased.

"Am I going to have to rub your tummy?"

This time the big man laughed out loud.


	27. Chapter 27

John was asleep.

Shawn could feel the slow, soft breaths against the flesh of his neck. Finally, the tension in the broad shoulders had given away under the palms of his hands. All along the length of John's back, the muscles had slowly loosened as Shawn had gently rubbed and caressed them. The hard, sharp breaths against his flesh had slowly been broken into soft, whispy sighs. Now, the Big Man lay limp in his arms.

Shawn smiled, gently squeezing the sleeping man. A feathery brush pressed against his neck and Shawn encouraged the dreamy kisses as he stroked the back of John's head. Soft, whispery nuzzles encased the flesh of his chin and cheek as John lips traced and nibbled his skin.

Now soft moans vibrated against his ears and Shawn sighed in sweet responce, whispering the big man's name against his lips.  
Tender kisses covered his face, then returned to the flesh of his neck.

Soft, answering whispers pressed against his ear.

"Shawn."

The Icon held him tighter, his hands moving downward across the broad back.

"I.." Shawn pinched his eyes shut, biting his lip to stop the words. _IloveyouIloveyou_

Kisses ran the length of his neck and Shawn wept with sweet joy, whispering the big man's name each time he wanted to say...

"Love you. Love you too."

Shawn gasped. His body shook, jolting upwards as he clung, kissing and caressing at John. He loved him! John loved him too.

"John!" he cried out as his hand moved lower,trailing down below John's waist, holding him closer, harder, tighter,feeling,  
touching, tasting...

Urgent kisses found his lips. _So sweet, oh John..._

Shawn's world blew apart in a golden flash of light.

John moaned against his cheek, sliding bonelessly down against his neck.

For a moment there was only the gentle rocking of the moving limo and the sound of ragged breath. Shawn drifted, then succumbed, his own body growing as limp as the big man he held.


	28. Chapter 28

The limo wasn't rolling anymore.

Shawn's eyes snapped open as he heard the click of the handle.

"John!"

The Cowboy started, jolting upright as they broke apart, diving in seperate directions. Cold air and bright light burst into the small space.

"Bob..Give us a moment."

Then the intruding light and air disapeered as quickly as it had come.

Shawn sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Small strands of hair intangled in his fingers. Frowning, Shawn felt for his ponytail. His elastic had slipped loose. A quick peek in the passenger mirror confirmed the worst. Shawn's lips were engored, swollen, his hair was part in, part out of his elastic and it was painfully obvious that someone had been nibbling his neck.

How would it have looked to the driver?

Blanching, he glanced at John, and his breath caught. John's cheeks were flushed and glowing, his eyes darkened with passion but sparking with...

_Love you...love you too._

Shawn couldn't help what he was about to do. He reached out, grabbing the bigger man by the neck, pulling him into a kiss. Once more, the world exploded into golden light as John opened for him, entertwining, his hands sliding along Shawn's back.

Then the their foreheads slid together, both gasping, clinging and breathless.

"We got...we got..." John gasped, then finally spoke the words. "Bob's gonna get frostbite."

Shawn chuckled, nodding against John's forehead, then slipped down onto his shoulder.

For a moment, they both held tight. Then John's hands were arranging, securing his hair, as he pushed down at John's own bedraggled strands. Finally, he abandoned the effort, and covered John's hair with his hat.

"Should I ask how I look?" the Cowboy blustered in mock indignance.

Shawn shook his head, nibbling at his lower lip to his hide his smile.

"Not really, big guy."


	29. Chapter 29

Palms entertwined, they opened the door together.

Instantly, the driver stepped forward to take hold of the exterior handle. Shawn stared guiltily down at his chapped hands.

"Thank you, Bob."

Shawn saw the man brighten as a substantial fold of bills was pressed into his hand. He looked up at John and smiled, reaching outward to grasp his hand...

Their fingers brushed, then they both lowered their eyes. They couldn't do this here or now.

"Do you want to go back home..do you want.."

Shawn lifted his eyes at the whisper, and felt them grow wet. Without thinking, he put his fingers to John's lips to silence him. Quickly, he glanced around, wincing, his eyes creased in apology.

He looked down again, whispering.

"I want to be with you. I want to make you champion. I l.."

He couldn't say anymore. Slowly, the Icon turned and began to walk. John fell in behind him, close enough for Shawn to feel his warmth, but far enough away to not arouse suspicion.

Once again, Shawn was greeted with a procession of leering faces. This time, etched in disgust and suggestion, but this time, Shawn wasn't alone. John, fully in character, swaggered along behind him, scowling venomously at each visage, for his part, the Icon lowered his eyes and shuffled, doing his best to look like a hostage.

Ugly whispers rained down on them and Shawn felt his jaw tighten. In that instant, John's hand rested on his shoulder. To the lockeroom, it looked like a sign of ownership, but Shawn could feel the tender squeeze.

"Well, what have we here."

Shawn paused briefly, his eyes closing.

When he opened them again, Chris Jericho stood before him, his face etched in disgust.

"It's Layfield's bitch."

Suddenly a blue sleeve flashed past Shawn's face. Blood splatter hit his jacket and Jericho hit the floor, hollering out in pain. It took Shawn a moment to realise that John had hit him.

"Shut the hell up you little pissant!" Shawn could feel the fury in John, feel the hand shaking on his shoulder. He glanced up at the big man in warning but John's eyes were wild, darting onto each person.

"Anybody else got any damn thing to say?"


	30. Chapter 30

_This is a very tiny update, but it's a segway to the events to come. Shawn and John WILL return in the next chapter. I'm sorry this update took so long, I just blocked up for awhile, but hopefully I am now back to full time writing. I don't name my chapters most of the time, but I'll break with tradition this time. Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed._

Chapter 30: Enter Iago

In the darkness, his eyes pinched tight at the sound of the Cowboys' voice.

Hands clenched, then balled into fists, pressing tight against the back of the door.

_Not nowNot nowNot now_

He bit his lip. feeling the puncture, the small, hot spot of warmth.

Outside, away from the shadows, outside of the small, dark room, Jericho was wheezing and gurgling, his own blood dripping from his mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, the sight pleased Hunter, no matter how much he depised its source.

For a moment, he concentrated on Chris's features, amusing himself by counting the falling drops of blood. Finally, his calmness returned, but now, it was laced with a hint of amusement.

Chris's wet lips were parted around a string of colorful insults. Unfortunately, like so many other things that Chris did, they were totally ineffective: no sound came out of his mouth.

Smirking, Hunter relished the moment.

All of his life, Chris had hated and envied Shawn, but now, his cold, darting eyes were turned on Layfield. It was perfect. A whisper and a nudge, a few kind acts of gentle persuasion would send the fool off, doing Hunter's own work for him.

He had a tool.

Now, more focused, more dedicated than ever, his own narrowed eyes turned to Layfield.


	31. Chapter 31

Once more, Shawn lead the way. Behind him he could still hear the sharp hitches in John's breath. He could feel the tension in John's taunt fingers, even through the gentle touch.

Silently, he prayed for no further interventions. Those long moments in the hall as he had struggled to break John's concentration, his pleading eyes trying to capture John's, to pacify the raging man... All he could think of was what might happened if someone else had taken Jericho's side.

They were both in their forties, both suffering from the effects of the ring. Shawn's back and knees were not as strong as they had been years ago, and he knew that, no matter how much he tried to hide it, John was in no better shape than him.

Would they be able to protect each other? How many people silently and secretly felt the same as Jericho? How long would it be before one-or several-of them cornered him or John alone?

Involuntarily, a shiver went through his body. Then, there was a tender, answering squeeze to his shoulder. Once again, John was there to protect him, even from his own bad thoughts.

Overcome, Shawn lifted his hand, reaching up to his shoulder. Then, he froze, hovering just above John's fingers, biting at his lip in frustration. He couldn't John, not here or now. He would never be able to touch John in the arena without inviting the very kind of attack he was desperately trying to avoid.

What if he slipped again? What if John was hurt because of him?

Then, the soft, feathery brush of fingertips against his sleeve broke his dark train of thoughts. Suddenly, he was gently nudged sideways, John's arm darting out over his head to push open a door.

Shawn joined him, pushing it forward so hard that the hinges cracked before bolting inside the dark room within. He turned almost at once, lunging forward, grasping out at John's silhoutte, taking him his arms, pushing him backwards against the door. The force of their weights slammed it back into the jam, shutting out the light and the world.

Now, they could touch. Now, they were safe.

Shivering, Shawn's feverish lips kissed the length of the Cowboy's neck. John's hands met around his waist, circling and lifting as he lowered his head, bringing Shawn's kisses to his face.

Their lips met, then joined, as once more, the sweet shivers and light shot through Shawn's body, even as he felt himself leave the ground, John's hands sliding downward to lift him up under his thighs.

The intimate contact tore a groan from Shawn as he parted his legs and circled John's waist, even as they both slid downward.  
Shawn's shins and John's back slowly sliding down the door, until finally, Shawn lay in the Cowboys'lap, encircled by John's own long legs.

Held tight, wrapped up in John's body, Shawn was finally safe. 


	32. Chapter 32

BLOCK BROKEN! I hope. If you are still reading, thank you and God bless you, going to do my level best to finish it this time.

They were laughing at _him_. At Chris Jericho.

These dull-eyed and slack-jawed idiots-protruding from every doorframe as he passed like so many zoo animals peering out of their cages-were mocking _him_. After what they had all seen at the airport, after what they had seen tonight.

Shawn's flushed face and disheveled hair...

The thought infuriated him.

The born-again Christian, the family man. That pious, self-serving, ever-suffering look etched into his face. Chris despised Shawn with a passion reserved for few,  
but this..

_Layfield's dark eyes smouldered, bursting with shards of light as Shawn kissed and licked at his thick, long neck..._

He pushed back the door unnecessarily hard. It abated the feelings just long enough for him to run some cold water in the sink.

His own lips were swollen from the punch, as engorged as that little whore's had been...

_Bradshaw's full lips parted as Shawn's kisses found them, his big, broad hands passing in slow strokes as he discovered every inch of Shawn's back.._

Chris tapped his forehead hard against the mirror. He refused to do this.

_Shawn revealed Layfield's flesh button by button, kissing, licking at his chest.._

This time, he rammed his head forward, then settled into a rhythmic pounding as his hands clutched at the sink basin.

"Chris, Chris, Chris..."

His eyes flew open, then closed just as quickly as he instinctively concealed his body against the front of the sink. Frantically, he searched his repertoire for a scathing retort as shame, desire, horror, and indignation warred for control of his physiognomy.

To be caught doing and thinking what he had been thinking was bad enough, but to be caught by _him_...

"So, Hunter," his voice came out as a croak, broadening the smile on the evolution-deprived face looming behind and reflected before him in the mirror. "Still deriving comfort and pleasure from small dark places?"

The neolithic face creased slightly before returning to its usual treacherous smile. Chris savored this small victory, his smile returning, then freezing in place as the face in the mirror loomed closer.

"and just what were you deriving pleasure from?"

Chris felt his face darken and burn and he bit down hard on his injured lip. Impossibly, incredibly, Hunter's hands were sliding around his waist, his chest pressing against Chris's back, driving him deeply-and painfully-into the front of the sink.

"Or should I say which one?"

Chris fumed, shaking with fury and something unthinkable.

"You don't have to tell me. I already know." the buttery, arsenic laded words spoke of a profane intent and Chris swallowed, failing to repress a slight shudder which was far more than merely disgust.

Then, Hunter spoke again, his voice a whisper against Chris's skin.

"Yee Haw."

The truth was an indignation beyond what Chris could endure. His mind failed him as his body had, and he simply cursed as Hunter's words were accompanied by an unspeakable act.

The world dissolved and Hunter's voice and Hunter's hands became..

_"You little pissant. Say my name."_

_John Bradshaw Layfield loomed down over him._

_"Say it."_

Chris shuddered, and screamed. Then, Hunter's own voice was back.

"Do you want it, Chris, do you want the real thing?"

At this moment, he wanted it, more than his pride and his shame and Hunter knew it. He was smiling again.

"Listen to me."


	33. Chapter 33

"That's fine, Fred, you can just leave it there."

John tipped his hat at his chauffer as the man turned to leave, then took the hauler in hand himself.

As soon as the door stopped swinging, they came together again. Shawn lifted his head and rose onto his toes as John leaned down to meet him. They had had to part quickly at the knock at the door and the seperation felt jarring to Shawn.

He had felt so safe and so at peace in John's arms. He wanted to hold and be held by him again, but Shawn knew it was time to get ready. John's qualifing match was in less than an hour.

For a moment, they rested their foreheads together, their fingers lightly resting on each other's sides, then with a florish, the Icon tipped over John's hat.

"Okay, Big Man, it's time for the HBK and JBL show."

The Cowboy chuckled and Shawn felt his smile touch his ears. Then, John reached down for his bag and Shawn felt his cheeks color as he realised..

At the same moment, John looked up.

His dark eyes were still twinkling with amusement, but then, they flickered and a slight flush rose on his cheeks.

After a long moment, he reached up and began to loosen his tie.

Shawn swallowed the tightness that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

He and John had dressed in the same lockerroom for years back in the days before private dressing rooms. They had seen each other in their tights, in towels-and less-  
but now...

He was staring.

Swallowing again, he forced his eyes away, downward, to ponder the edge of his shirt.

Then he looked up.

For a moment, he and John simply stared at each other, then Shawn gave in to the awkward smile tugging at his cheeks.

John's dark eyes and his cheeks lit up, then he chuckled again and Shawn joined him.

"I got an idea." he sputtered in between his laughter. Then, he stepped over the bench, sitting his bag on the floor at one side. Shawn's smile pulled at his cheeks once more as realised what John had in mind.

"I think you've got something there, Big Man."

He crossed over to the other side of the bench with his own bag, then turned.

Now he and John stood and could sit back to back.

Another round of chuckles broke the tension, and Shawn bit his lip to keep himself from finishing his sentance aloud, but in the end, he couldn't resist.

"You've definitely got something there, big fella, and now, I won't be able to peek at it." 


	34. Chapter 34

He had dealt with Jericho, now it was time for other business.

The self-styled King of the Lion Tamer still lay exactly where Hunter had left him. For this, he allowed himself one, genuine smile. The incident itself had been repulsive and he felt physically soiled by it, yet the ease with which Chris could be manipulated gave him no small amount of pleasure.

It had been so easy.

Yet while lust was easy to recognise and exploit, it's sources remained an eternal mystery. This want of Bradshaw -of all people- was beyond the Game's understanding.  
Admittedly, he was biased, he had always despised him.

Layfield's manner, his countryfied accent had irritated Hunter since the first moment they had met. His size and his long, blond hair had been candy to Vince's eyes and in those days, Hunter could sore afford the competition. His "lifestyle" and his "friendship" with Shawn had brought him into bad favor with his then very distant future father-in-law. The former football player and preacher's son was far nearer to Vince's image of perfection.

The man's subsequent career and financial success had only served to deepen those opinions and emotions. It had taken Hunter years-and more than a few schemes-to turn the tide. Even now, with his future seeming safely secured as the heir apparant son-in-law to McMahon, the comparions-at least in Vince's mind-remained.

Hunter, in Vince's opinion, was only an acceptable son-in-law and a far-from-acceptable man.

All of these things, the Game could endure in seething, planning and patient silence, but this ...thing with Shawn, which was threatening to rise up again...

His fists contracted tight, then with some effort, he emptied his mind.

His features-or the mask that formed them-slipped casually into place, into the semblance of compassion and concern.

It was time to play the troubled friend.


	35. Chapter 35

"Are you decent, Big Man?"

Shawn hoped he didn't look as distracted as he sounded.

He had already had to relace his boots twice. Just knowing that John was right behind him...

A soft chuckle vibrated the bench beneath him and Shawn felt his tension lift at the sound.

Then, he heard John release a hard breath and felt his weight lift from the bench.

"I'm as decent as I am ever going to be in these tights."

There was something in his tone that made Shawn turn around.

His breath caught.

_All that beautiful skin_

He was staring again.

John's back rippled as he adjusted the towel around his neck...

Shawn's mouth fell open.

it dipped lower over his stomach, brushing the edge of his black tights, then, he shifted his balance...

Shawn flushed, heat rising over his skin, settling into his..

John's buttocks tensed, their outlines moving against the taunt skin of his tights..

Then, abruptly, John turned fully away, his head dropping.

"I..."

Shawn could hear the distress in his voice.

"I know I need to lose weight."

_John looked up, giving Shawn an awkward smile as the Icon scanned the half-full platters._

_"No, Shawn, there's plenty, I just.." the Showstopper frowned as the cowboy shifted in his chair, a bried pained expression passing over his face. "I can read the signs."_

_Shawn didn't understand at all what the big man meant. "Signs?"_

_Again John shifted and this time, he glanced away. Instinctively, Shawn reached out for his hand, but the big table was an obstacle he couldn't overcome._

_"The jelly belly loser signs."_

He had done it again. John had thought...

"John."

Shawn felt the tears spring to his eyes.

"Buddy, look at me."

He reached outward and upward, gently lifting John's chin.

The dark eyes looked down at him, tightened and wet with distress and Shawn's heart was torn at the sight.

"John." he began again, trying to find the words to express..to make John understand.

"I..."

In desperation, he tore his tshirt up and off over his head exposing..

For a moment, John stared at him, not understanding, then his eyes lowered slightly.

His lips twitched and he chewed nervously at them, but Shawn knew John was hiding his smile.


	36. Chapter 36

Hunter stole an upward glance as the Chairman lowered his eyes to rub at his brow. Then, just as quickly, the Game his head drop down again, let his jaw set and his chin slightly quiver.  
Vince was watching now.

Hunter knew exactly what that meant.

"Are you sure?"

To prove that he was, the Game let his hands tremble.

When he lifted his head again, his eyes were wet. His words were properly clenched.

"You know how he can be." The Game let his words catch, swallowing to clear them.

"You know what he's like when he's desperate."

The small muscles at the base of Vince's throat tightened.

Slowly, the words and Hunter's false truth were sinking in, yet there was one thing he still needed to say and to do to win the old man over.

"It's not going to work. We both know Bradshaw and there is no way..."

Now, Vince was nodding in understanding. So close to being on the line.

"but Shawn..."

He put his down once more, letting his shoulders sag in "defeat", seemingly unable to go on.

"He's running a con."

Slowly, stiffly, he nodded at the Chairman's words.

The bait was taken.

"I want him in this office before tonight is over. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention."


	37. Chapter 37

_Thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing. I think that I found my feet again in this chapter. It felt a bit more like my Shawn and John. Hope you enjoy it!_

John was distracted.

Shawn frowned, his eyes tightening as he watched the taller man limber himself out. His soulful eyes were inwardly focused, but his balance was errant. Twice, while leaning, he had discreetly caught the ground with his hand to reshift his weight, and now, he was looking over his shoulder..

Swallowing, Shawn forced his greedy eyes away and downward as he adjusted the tape on his wrists.

This match was the first step in John's goal of winning the title, but now, because of him, because he couldn't contol himself..

_All that beautiful skin_

_John's back rippled as he adjusted the towel around his neck..it dipped lower over his stomach, brushing the edge of his black tights, then, he shifted his balance.._

_Shawn flushed, heat rising over his skin, settling into his..._

Shawn head dropped, his cheeks coloring, his eyes lowering in shame.

_"I can read the signs."_

John was his friend. John had given him so much and now that Shawn was finally in a position to help him in return...

_"You are so hot," he whispered, and even though he couldn't see the big man's face, he could feel the subtle warmth of the flush of shame as he caressed Helmsley's cheek. It was time._

_Shawn pressed downward, driving his hardness against the taunt ass in a single slow, searing stroke..._

Was that all he would ever be able to give anyone? Was that all he was?

John had been insecure; he had needed him, he had needed love and Shawn had given-and was giving him-nothing but lust. Even at this very moment, his heart was pounding and his member was hard.

Instead of giving John the soft words, the gentle touch he should have given, he had simply exposed himself like some kind of animal.

Like the person that Hunter had wanted.

"Shawn.."

The soft whisper, the warm breath, sent shivers through his skin. John's hands gently enclosed his waist, slowly turning him around, closing him into his arms.  
Soft kisses pressed at his forehead.

"I understand."

"I.." Shawn's words dissolved into urgent shivers, but somehow, someway, John knew.

This time, the words were softer, a whisper more felt than heard.

"I trust you."


	38. Chapter 38

The arrogance of the man was amazing.

Chris's reflection wrinkled its nose in distaste as he looked down at the object Helmsley had left behind him.

Initially, he had been too disturbed and distracted, more by the fact of his own tranparency than by the revelations-and the Incident that had resulted from it. The mere thought that he had engaged in some form of copulation with Hunter was nausiating. He had lowered himself with the act, but now,after a vigorous shower, Chris Jericho was once more himself.

He was in control.

As he now considered the situation-and that thing on the bench-with his recovered clarity, some things were now as obvious as that massive appendage prodtruding from Hunter's face. The man's brain was as neolithic as his body.

Chris had not been the only transparent person in that room. Just as a door opened can be seen through both ways, Chris's lapse had precipated far more revelations from Hunter than the arrogant man would ever know.

This was far, far more. This was darker and deeper than any secret Chris had kept-and unwittingly revealed-to and about himself.

_The world dissolved and Hunter's voice and Hunter's hands became.._

_"You little pissant. Say my name."_

_John Bradshaw Layfield loomed down over him._

_"Say it."_

The intrusive thought broke his concentration and for a moment, the epic well of confidence which overflowed from his cup ran slightly dry. For a moment, the impossible happened. Chris Jericho questioned his judgement.

_"Do you want it, Chris, do you want the real thing?"_

And he had wanted it, wanted Layfield enough to agree to this.

In his somewhat...diffused...earlier state, this had seemed harmless and titilating, but now he could see a darker undercurrant to these deep waters.

His skin wasn't the only one that John Bradshaw Layfield had managed to get under.

That knowledge gave Chris Jericho power.


	39. Chapter 39

Shawn could finally let out his breath when he heard John's theme music play. Desperation, anger and relief warred on inside him, but he kept his face neutral, lowered,  
as he walked up the ramp. It was taking everything he had not to look up, to look back and try to catch John's eye.

He had let his earlier guilts and fears about John's concentration overwhelm him and rushed down to the ring the first moment John had gotten into any trouble. He hadn't thought, he'd just felt and acted.

In the end, he had found himself pulling John out of the ring, both of them freezing in horror as the referee turned to call for the disqualification. There had been only one thing he could do, only one way to save the match and John's dream.

His eyes moistened as remembered what he had done and he tightened them, clenching his fists as he passed under the tron.

A few steps further on ahead was the small, curtained-off area the performers used to prepare for their entrance to the ring and now, inside it, Shawn could at last turn around and look back at John.

The big man was still on the ramp, but even at this distance the reddened imprint of Shawn's palm was clearly visible on his cheek. The image brought tears to Shawn's orb again, but when at last, he caught John's eye, the big man winked and flashed him a smile.

Joy and relief flooded through him, then his mouth dropped open in amazement and John began to twostep in celebration at the top of the stage.

The thunderous fury of the crowd drowned out his words but Shawn could read his lips.

"That was awesome! They hate me!"

Despite everything that had happened, Shawn couldn't keep himself from laughing. With one smile, John had made everything right again.


End file.
